Request: Can I request a fic about a female reader and a male drider? Bonus if she ends up webbed up in a shibari-ish way, (intentionally or otherwise.) Spooky spider boys don't get much love and you write monsters so well.
watch out—here comes a spooky boi!
The night was dark, and you had been swallowed by shadows. Travelling through this forest after the sun had set was always a risk, but you wouldn’t have taken it if you hadn’t needed to. You had received word earlier that evening that your grandmother, who lived on the other side of the woods, was dangerously ill, so you were braving the journey to bring her some of the herbs you grew at your cottage. There had been no time to waste, not even for the dangers that lurked under these trees. Besides, you reassured yourself, plenty of people had made this journey at night and had made it successfully. So long as you stayed on the path and made sure not to disrespect the woods, you ought to be fine.
Little did you know though, that you had already captured the attention of a certain beast. Peering down at you from the tree branches where he rested, the drider could taste your scent on his tongue. He found it intoxicating, an irresistible mix of sweetness and spice that had him craving your touch. His glistening black eyes centered on you, watching as you traversed down the path. Driders were usually very solitary creatures, isolating themselves both from strangers and their own kind. As such, the opportunities for mating were few and far between, even though the desire was still there. Driders tended to be picky creatures, refusing to give in to their need until they had found a partner that they deemed worthy. Luckily for you, or perhaps unluckily, this drider had found you to be worthy.
Rising onto his many legs, the drider began to crawl after you, careful to stay silent as he journeyed from tree to tree. Once he had gotten a bit closer, he was able to see that you carried a sharp silver dagger in your hand, no doubt intending to use it should any creatures such as himself appear before you. That was not about to hinder him though, it simply meant that he had to wait for the opportune moment. Taking his newfound time, the drider examined your features more closely than he could beforehand. As he inched forward, he took in the allure of your profile, your bright eyes and plush lips. He watched as your breasts pushed against your shirt, already imagining you nursing his young. Your skin practically glowed in the moonlight, and it held a softness that he had long forgotten could exist.
Seeing you lean down and adjust your shoe, he saw his chance. He reached down slowly, taking a small stone in his hand. Tossing it with all his strength, he sent it across the other side of the path, causing your head to jolt upward towards the noise. Gripping your dagger tightly, you slid forward cautiously, trying to move past whatever made that noise without being drawn into a fight. While you had your back turned and your attention elsewhere, the drider approached you from behind. A part of him wished that it didn’t have to be this way, but he knew that humans usually were not interested in mating with his kind. And in truth, he couldn’t be too regretful; this way he could keep you safe and more importantly, keep you with him, where you ought to be. So when he sent a web towards you, silver and strong, it was with a clear conscience and dark, demanding love in his heart.
You screamed. You screamed as the web coiled around your wrist, you screamed as it pulled you backwards, you screamed as it forced the dagger to fall from your hand. But when the drider stepped in front of you, you ceased screaming. Shooting forth more web, he wrapped you tightly, so that you could hardly twitch a single finger. Crouching down towards you, the drider placed his hand on your cheek, stroking it gently. He nearly gasped at the sensation, finding that your skin was as soft as it had looked. But he kept silent, knowing that he needed to be strong in order to bind you to him, bind you tightly enough to him so that you would never be able to leave.
“It is alright, little one. I will not harm you.”
“Do you really think that I’m going to believe that?”
“Perhaps not at first,” he answered gravely. “But I will prove it to you.” You shook your head harshly in response and closed your eyes, attempting to fight the tears forming in them. When you opened them, you found the drider’s eyes in front of your own, and despite their strange quality, you thought you glimpsed something that you recognized.
“What do you want with me?” Before he replied, the drider took a moment to weave his fingers through your hair.
“You will be my mate. You will share my web and bear my children. You will be mine, and you will be mine forever.” Trembling at his words, you released a desperate sob. The drider pressed a finger to your lips, shushing you softly. Lifting you up into his arms, he pushed his mouth against yours, letting his fangs slide over your lips. Their sharp points nicked your lips, and your captor lapped up your blood gratefully.
Erinan gets drunk, forgets he’s supposed to hide his magic
Arymez fumbling to explain it’s not magic while Pasca stands in a chair in the corner swatting at them.
——-
He told Erinan not to get in the brew the Wanderes had given him. They were far too close to the fairy lake, and any water that came from there made any solution it was used in volatile.
But, then, when did Erinan listen?
The first sip was fine, smooth he said. It didn’t burn or rush, tasting like something indescribable. Pasca sat by the cabin’s hearth, tending to the fire while Arymez tried getting the bottle from him. But now he had a taste and sure wasn’t giving it up. A few more sips and he had yet to show signs of delusion or vertigo. Arymez considered maybe it was his Reyth lineage, some part Fae himself, keeping him from succumbing to its intoxication.
Halfway through the bottle, Erinan took an unseen dive in condition when he decided he wanted tea instead. As he staggered towards the compact kitchen, Arymez swept it away to hide in the mudroom.
Pasca screamed.
Rushing back to the den he found her leapt up into one of the arm chairs, clutching the firestoker like a baseball bat. Erinan, however, was clear across the room in their tiny kitchen. Leaned over with his forehead rest on the counter, hand spread out beneath the kettle where a pillow of fire sprouted from his palm.
“What’s going on?” She yelled, “What did he drink?”
“It’s just, you know,” Arymez signaled with open hands for her to calm down. “It’s alright.”
“Absolute beetroot s'it not!” She barked, bringing the stoker up higher. “He’s got fire in his hand! What is going on, Arymez?”
“It’s not real.” He tried, wheeling around to Erinan who was more concentrated in his tea than the screaming match. “What is wrong with you?” Arymez hissed at him. “Put it out.”
“Tea’s not done.” Erinan slurred.
“We have a stove.”
“No time.”
“It’s just a trick.” Arymez turned to Pasca, blindly reaching back for Erinan’s arm. “He picked it up from one of those street performers on Yod Rowe. It’s coming from the kettle.” He pulled at Erinan, trying to get him to stop. His hand came out from under the pot, sending a short pillar of fire up into the air.
“You’re lying! That’s no trick and I’m not stupid! What is that -what is that?!” In a panic Arymez lobbed Erinan across the jaw as hard as he could, knocking him out and putting out the flames. Everything went still, Arymez slowly turning to Pasca who stared wide eyed where Erinan had been standing.
“So there’s this powder you can by, highly flammable,” He started while approaching her. “You can get it down from Jet on Yod Rowe. I told Erinan not to use it, just for starting up camps.”
“Wasn’t any powder!” She shrieked. “His hand was baw empty! I saw it. He’s too smashed to have gotten it, and he don’t sell with Jet anyway.” She swung the stoker, whooshing just over his head as he ducked. “Don’t come any closer. Both of you into spells and no good. I said no closer!”
Again she swung, almost catching him. On the third swing she came down with it, Arymez crowding up on one foot as it smashed into the floorboards. The hook caught where his foot would have been, splintering wood and lodging it in place. Pasca made two quick tugs before looking up at him.
He thought her eyes might fall out of her head, hands still clasped around the handle, frozen in terror.
“It’s alright, Paz. Just a joke gone wrong. I shouldn’t have stashed the powder in the kitchen, and he shouldn’t have gotten that bottle, either.” She took a shaking breath, glancing towards the kitchen as she wet her lips.
“Promise it was powder?” She whimpered, looking him dead in the eye.
“Promise.” He lied. It would come back to bite him, he knew it. But this wasn’t something he was going to explain to her. It wasn’t the right time or his place to do so. That would be Erinan’s talk, when he was ready and wanted her to know. Hopefully, whenever that time came, Pasca could forgive him for this lie. “Come down, it’s alright.”
Part One: https://writerbyaccident.tumblr.com/post/182816070094/bargains
You sat in the garden, concealed under a weeping willow. At least, you had thought it was a willow tree, until you remembered that willow trees did not have dusky purple leaves. You were slowly becoming acclimated to the strange world you had found yourself trapped in, but that new familiarity brought along its own kind of fear. Fear that you would give in to the temptations of this wiling world, fear that you would forget the life you held before all of this, fear that you would remember, but just not care. That was why you sought refuge in the garden, it was the one place that you could attempt to collect yourself, try to keep your soul from slipping out of your hands.
At the moment, you were writing out your most important memories in the dirt, using a small stick you had found on the ground. You knew better now than to try to break off part of a branch yourself, doing so would only serve to attract the attention of every creature at the palace. The last thing you needed was for your liege to discover your secret ritual. He may not have explicitly forbidden you from sorting through your past, but you knew that that was only due to the fact that he believed this realm would do the work of destroying your memories for him. You paused at the thought, half convinced you hear him approaching. But soon enough your dread passed, and you continued in your task.
You were writing down the names of all of your friends and family that you had left behind, trying not to wonder if they remembered you at all. It was dangerous to be sharing their names, even if it was only with the earth, but it felt even more dangerous to let yourself forget them. Still, you were sure to write their names very small, so that only a person who already knew what they said could tell what they were. In addition, you were also laying in the dirt, covering the names with your body so that no one else could see them, not even the sprites that sometimes enjoyed spying on you. You knew it was a risk to get your gown dirty; he always told you that he could not have his pet appear slovenly before the court, but you knew that any punishment he could give you would be worth enduring. As you wrote down each name, small but precious memories came back to you. The tricks your dog could do, your best friend’s smile, the pancakes your parents would make you each year for your birthday. It took you a minute, but soon you realized that you had begun to cry. They were not sad tears though, not really. They were more of a melancholy nostalgia.
“Why are you crying, my dear?” You looked up, startled. Your sovereign had appeared before you without even the sound of his breath to warn you. He stood above you, looking down in exaggerated consternation. Taking in his sudden arrival, you noticed that his eyes were a haughty silver at the moment, his color for tightly controlled rage. Trying not to avoid his gaze, you slowly moved your hands towards the names, about to wipe them away before he could see. But before you could erase them, he called your name and commanded you to stop.
“Please,” you begged him. He paid no mind to your pleas, and instead moved to see what you had been writing. You prayed that he wouldn’t be able to tell what the words actually said, but your prayers provided little comfort. Peering down at the words, he laughed coldly.
“So this is your little secret? I have to say, I expected something more entertaining from you, pet.” His words were unbothered and condescending, but somewhere in his tone his anger was betrayed. With a frighteningly gentle touch, he grasped your arms and forced you to stand. You dropped your gaze then, afraid of what you might see in his eyes. It could have been rage, or amusement, or triumph; no matter what it was, you knew it would end poorly for you. All you could hope for was that he would spare the names written there.
“I-I just didn’t want to forget,” you whispered, knowing that your cooperation would be necessary in order to obtain mercy for your loved ones.
“But why would you feel the need to hide such a thing from me, love?” he asked mockingly. “I thought you knew our ways. The true power of names is only given when the holder of it gives it freely.” You looked up in desperate hope to see if his words were true, when he suddenly gripped your chin in his iron grip.
“However,” he continued, “I do believe that I could do something with these names.” His eyes began to change into a bright amber, giving him the fitting appearance of a feral animal.
“What are you going to do to them?”
“Well, there are quite a few options. I could visit their dreams, whisper things in their ears, force them to see their greatest fears come to life before them. Or,” he said, leaning to whisper in your ear, “I could show them every single thing that I have done to you here.”
“Please, I’m sorry,” you whimpered. “I won’t do it again, just don’t hurt them.” At your words, he only sighed.
“But you betrayed my trust, pet. I have told you time and time again, I refuse to share you. That includes with memories as well.” In a perverse parody of gentleness, he started to stroke your hair. Despite yourself, you leaned into his delicate touch and let his breaths dance upon your neck. “There is nothing left for you in that world, my dear. Thinking of it will only hurt our chance at happiness. You have given me your name, but until you give me every piece of your being, I cannot make you happy. I would worship you, if only you would let me.” You drank in his sweet words gladly, swaying slightly at their rhythm. They were so tempting, offering you a chance at escape from the cage you had found yourself trapped in. Dimly, you realized that he had begun to trail soft kisses all over your neck, and you closed your eyes in lazy contentment. As his kisses grew more passionate, a thread of heat rose within you, and you were suddenly desperate to feel his lips against yours. You leaned towards him in an attempt to catch his lips, but he moved back with a teasing smile.
“I have a bargain to offer you, little one,” he told you. “I will erase these names from my mind, so that I could not use them even if I wanted to. But in return, you will forget them as well.” You bit your lip in consideration, knowing that the specific wording of the bargain had to be thought over carefully. He was not asking to wipe away your memories, but that was only because he didn’t need to. Once you let go of these names, you knew that your memories would begin to fade with them. Slowly, all of your connection to your past life would be eroded, like a pebble in a stream. Your heart ached at the very thought, and positively roared at the realization that you would agree. You had given up so much already, the prospect of handing over more of yourself to this world and to this man hurt as no physical pain ever would. At your distress, your lord reached forward and cupped his cheek in his hand.
“I do this not to hurt you, love. You know that so long as you hold these memories within you, the pain will never leave. Do you not see-I am the only answer to your suffering, I am the only one who cares enough to heal you.”
“That-that’s not true,” you reminded yourself desperately. “They would save me if they could.” He smiled with patronizing sympathy.
“Then why haven’t they? I did not erase their memories of you, and the friend you saved remembers exactly what happened. And yet, none of them have even tried to find this place, much less find you.” You gave a quiet sob at his words, willing yourself not to believe them. But you knew that the Fae could not lie, so your tears continued, and he began to stroke your hair again. Looking up into his eyes, you saw that they were now a golden brown, warm with fond attachment. There was possessiveness hidden there as well, but you refused to let yourself see it.
“Let me take care of you,” he murmured. “You do not belong there any longer, your home is with me. They are not worthy of you, they never were. You are a jewel among them, why else would I have chosen you? I am the only one who has ever seen your true worth. You are my match in every conceivable way: in your intelligence, in your compassion, in your beauty, in your nobility. Every sacrifice you make for them only proves it further. Let go of them guiltlessly, they are not worth your tears.” His words were gentle, a soothing balm to the anguish that you felt. After so long of trying to keep your walls up around your sovereign, he brought them crumbling down with sorely needed affection.
“All right,” you agreed. “I accept your bargain.” He smiled in gratification, directing you to look down at the soil. To your lack of surprise, the names you had written there had disappeared. You searched yourself for them, and found nothing. The memories were still there, but now they were further away. They no longer demanded your attention and subsequent suffering. Looking back up at your lord, you gave him a small smile. Only then did he meld his lips with yours, enjoying how he could now taste your full reciprocation.
While I work on the next part of the series, enjoy some of the updated version for refreshers :)
*~*~*~*~*
Cosimo ran through the forest with a sharp urgency, an unconscious boy cradled close to his chest as he went. The rain pattered down on his head as he ran, bare feet clawing at the ground to keep his grip. To an onlooker he could have been running on plain terrain instead over the wiry and rough forest, leaves slick with water; as if he were one with the Earth; knew every root, every nettle and broken tree bows that he hopped over with graceful ease.
His sharp eyes searched the forest frantically, pleading for a shelter to open up to them. Ahead was a wooden barricade, tree branches crisscrossing with hedges and leaves before him like a blockade. Cosimo bowed his head and turned to the side, curling his upper body around the smaller one in his arms. Branches snapped and scratched at him as he pushed his way through with a determined resolve.
When he finally emerged from the branches, he found what he knew would be waiting for him. A small burrow made in a circle of trees, an opening in the trunk of a thick Elfbow tree, the size of three fully grown oaks. A shelter mercifully presenting itself. Cosimo let out a soft sigh and whispered a soft thank you to the forest for providing.
His limbs grew heavier and heavier the closer he got to rest, but he walked on, slower now, but just as strong as he was when he set out from court. He lay the boy in his arms down on a bed of leaves for the moment under the shelter of the Elfbow. Cosimo touched the trunk as he entered, his heart feeling full as he did.
“Thank you protecting us,” he whispered, pressing his forehead to the entrance. He pressed his knuckles against the unconscious boy’s forehead, letting out a soft sigh. He was okay. Not as hot as he before. Cosimo would gather food and herbs tomorrow to help the fever, but at least he was stable for now.
Cosimo took off his pack that he had hastily gathered from home. Two blankets, two pillows, a canteen of water, a hunting knife — just the essentials.
“The very bare necessities, Cosimo,” Cosimo chastised with a sigh, running a hand through his soaked hair flicking the rain from it. Cosimo put a pillow under the boy’s head and wrapped him in a blanket to keep him warm. Cosimo sat with his back against the trunk of the tree, arms wrapped around his knees that he hugged to his chest. He watched the rain patter down on leaves outside the Elfbow. The gloomy grey of the evening bled into a darker, broodier grey but the rain let up before night fell with its coat of deep purples and midnight blues.
Cosimo didn’t know at what point he fell asleep, but he woke to footsteps cracking the leaves beneath its feet and he was immediately alert. His hand shot and grabbed the hunting knife, unsheathing it and lunging forward into a deep crouch, teeth bared.
He came nose to snout with a fox that was frozen in place, brown eyes meeting Cosimo’s with a slightly dazed and stunned glimmer to them. Cosimo let out a breath that reflected on the air with a rolling wave of smoke, before settling back into the nook-like shelter of the Elfbow. The fox didn’t retreat, instead he sniffed the air and timidly took a step towards Cosimo and the unconscious boy beside him.
Cosimo inclined his head slightly and the fox entered the Elfbow with all the inquisitiveness of a cat trying to sniff out the source of fish. The fox turned his head to the boy, and glancing back at Cosimo quickly for permission he climbed up on the unconscious boy’s chest, curling into a little ball on top of him, deep brown eyes meeting Cosimo’s again before closing half-lidded.
Emotion clogged Cosimo’s throat as he reached out to pet the fox, allowing the animal to sniff his hand before allowing the affection.
“See?” Cosimo whispered to the sleeping boy. “You’re not nobody. You’re like me.”
Cosimo didn’t sleep exactly, but he at least got some semblance of rest before dawn broke, and he woke with it. He looked down at the sleeping boy, the fox had moved from his chest and was curled up to the boy’s side. Cosimo reached his hand out and brushed the boy’s damp hair back from his forehead.
He was warm, not too hot. Maybe the fever had passed with the rain? Cosimo didn’t know enough about it, but he knew the rejuvenation powers of rain that came with him so he suspected maybe it could be the saviour of the boy too.
Cosimo drank some water from the canteen before grabbing the empty rucksack he took with him and slinging it over his shoulder across his body. He took the water and the hunting knife and set off about the day. When he exited the Elfbow the sun was only starting to rise, birds heralding the morning.
Cosimo looked back to the sleeping boy and the fox. He pressed his hand to the tree and leaned his forehead against his knuckles.
Protect them, please. I’ll return with food.
Cosimo felt the rush of feeling that flooded him when he was surrounded by nature. He took one last glance at the boy before he turned and walked out of the small clearing and into the embrace of the forest again. He remembered hearing rushing water when he was running with the boy, the sound distinct from the patter of the rain.
The dense woods were not nearly as imposing as they were the night before, when Cosimo’s thoughts were on finding shelter and nothing else. There should be some mushrooms nearby he could roast, maybe some berry bushes if he was lucky, and water. Not enough to feed them properly, but to sustain them? It would be enough.
Cosimo found the stream under a thicket of leaves. It was slightly lower than the ground Cosimo was on, so he simply extended a leg and slid down the bank to the stream, opening his canteen as he went. His feet settled into the damp earth, and he crouched down to refill the canteen. Not before drinking the last of the remaining water.
He heard a huff from his left so Cosimo glanced towards the sound and saw a horse lapping up water from the stream. Cosimo froze like the fox the night before, before kicking himself into action. He sprung up, canteen forgotten in the stream and bolted back up the bank, his fingers clawing into the clay.
He scrambled to the top and was met with a pair of legs. There was a flash and a pressure on his chest and Cosimo was airborne, gravity grabbing at him and bringing him down hard into the outer bank of the stream. Cosimo let out a gasp of air on impact but quickly sprung to his feet and turned to hop the stream to the other side.
A hand grabbed him by the strap of his rucksack, and he was yanked backwards. “Hey! Wait!” Cosimo cried, bringing an elbow back sharply and his head back too. He slipped under the strap of his bag and grabbed the hunting knife, hopping over the stream with ease. He didn’t look back.
Humans were bad. They killed people like him, there shouldn’t even be any for miles around!
Cosimo climbed up the opposite bank of earth with deft speed and hoisted himself to the other side, knife ready in one hand, the sheath in his other with one thought and one thought only — to go back to the boy in the Elfbow.
He didn’t account for more soldiers to be on the other side of the stream. Cosimo froze again when he was first recognised by another man. They were all fully grown humans. Fully grown male humans. Cosimo had yet to pass his fifteenth year, at least he had a slight boost in height, but he was too skinny to fight.
There wasn’t time to think before a hand was bunched in his shirt again. Cosimo whirled on his heel, slashing out blindly with the knife. The blade cut into the soldier’s cheek Cosimo realised with wide eyes, and the Soldier let him go. Cosimo fell to the side at the sudden lack of force holding him, but quickly got his bearings again and ran to the right of the soldier’s camp.
An arrow whizzed by his ear, startling him and Cosimo lunged to the left only to be caught with a kick to his leg. Cosimo stumbled but remained standing, turning to his new attacker baring his teeth only to get a punch to the face. Cosimo’s eyes rolled into the back of his head as he fell, stiff as an oak onto the forest floor.
A boot stomped down onto Cosimo’s wrist wielding the knife and Cosimo cried out, reaching over with his free hand to paw at the boot but it wouldn’t budge. A knee to the chest followed and Cosimo cried out, trying to wiggle himself free but the human was too heavy. Whether his weight was from his diet, or the weight from his uniform of metal Cosimo didn’t know.
“Well, well, well,” the human man remarked. Cosimo swallowed the lump in his throat, struggling to free himself from the man’s pin. “You’re only a baby, aren’t you?”
Cosimo bared his teeth in response. They were so close to where Cosimo had left the boy and the fox, and he prayed that the Elfbow would protect them from the soldiers.
“Let go of me,” Cosimo demanded, eyes blazing up at the man. The man smiled, something wicked twinkling in his eyes.
“Have you run away from home? You do know what we do to your people in these parts, don’t you?”
Cosimo let out a cry of frustration at trying and failing pathetically to free himself from the man’s grip.
“Please,” Cosimo said. “I don’t mean you any harm. I was just coming for water.”
“Won’t do harm my arse,” the soldier that Cosimo cut ground out, fury winding his features tight. Cosimo didn’t see him lift his leg, but his head whipped to the side with the impact. Cosimo righted his head too early as the man he injured stomped a foot down on Cosimo’s face.
Cosimo heard the bones in his nose crack inside his head while he screamed out loud, a quiet whimper following after his scream died in his throat.
“Hey!” The soldier pinning Cosimo growled. “You can’t kill him. He must be brought to court before their execution.”
Execution?
Cosimo’s struggles to break free renewed at the thoughts of the soldiers taking him away from the boy. “No! No, you can’t! I can’t leave the forest, please!”
The man above him tilted his lips down into a frown. “Sorry kid. Orders are orders, we have to bring ya in.”
“Don’t talk to it like it’s a child,” the angry soldier scolded. The man on top of him reached over and plucked the knife from Cosimo’s grip. Cosimo let out a soft whine at the object of his defence leaving his grasp.
“Just get the irons and let me deal with h—” the man above him said, then corrected himself, glancing down at Cosimo with a frown. “It.”
The angry man stormed off out of sight. Cosimo swallowed hard and stared above at the man pining him to the forest floor.
“Please…” Cosimo tried. “Please don’t kill me.”
“Like I said kid,” said the man. “There has to be a trial in front of the king.”
Cosimo’s eyes widened significantly. There wasn’t a king for miles around court… how far had Cosimo travelled, and in what direction? The question lingered on his tongue, and he wanted to voice it, but thought better of asking the enemy… or even worse, letting them know just how clueless Cosimo really was.
The man stared down at Cosimo with a stern glance. “I’m going to get you to sit up, if you try to escape, we will catch you, and the other soldiers will hurt you again. Do you understand?”
Cosimo nodded. He hated himself for it, but he had to listen to this man if he didn’t want to die. He couldn’t die or else the boy would die too, he’s the only one who knew where he was, he was stupid for running away. So stupid! What was he thinking?
He stared at the man above him as he moved his knee from Cosimo’s chest. He seemed to be the only one who didn’t want him dead at that moment. The angry soldier returned with two bands of metal attached together with a thick link of metal between them.
“What— what are they?” Cosimo asked, his voice cracking with fear. The soldier helped Cosimo to sit up which caused a wicked amount of pain in his nose to flare up and Cosimo grunted with the effort.
The man took the metal from the angry soldier and dismissed him with a wave. The other soldier didn’t want to listen but obeyed the man when he told him to go verbally.
The man opened the metal loop and showed it to Cosimo, saying with a reassuring smile: “They open like this, see?”
Cosimo leaned in closer to inspect the metal. “What do they do?” He asked, a little less scared at seeing them up close. The man lifted his hand and put the metal over his own wrist.
“They tighten over your wrist like this, see? They lock— well, they essentially keep your hands tied behind your back so you can’t hurt someone again.”
Not have use of his hands. Cosimo shook his head vehemently. “No. No. I won’t hurt anyone else; I promise. Don’t put them on me.”
The man’s smile faded back into a frown. “I’m sorry, but I have to. Please don’t fight me. I don’t want you getting hurt again.”
Cosimo was trembling in the man’s hands, but he nodded his consent for the man to grab Cosimo’s wrist. Cosimo screamed when the metal touched his wrist and bolted back away from the man.
“Wait! Please! Please! Wait! Ow, please! I won’t hurt anyone!” The man caught Cosimo’s ankle before he could get further away from him and dragged him back across the damp ground. Cosimo clawed the soil, trying to gain any purchase, but the man was strong, and the earth wasn’t helping him escape. “Please don’t. Please! I’ll be good.”
A shadow crossed the man’s face as he grabbed Cosimo’s arm and pulled it behind Cosimo’s back before locking the second cuff around Cosimo’s wrist.
Cosimo let out a hiss as the metal burned a circle around his wrists, tears coming to his eyes. “Please, I’m sorry. Take them off. I’m sorry. What— agh! What is it?!”
The man grabbed Cosimo’s arms to stop him struggling more and hurting himself. “Iron. It’s a metal that is poisonous to your kind.”
“Please,” Cosimo whispered, the plea coming out soft and childish, fat tears trailing down his cheeks. “Please take them off.”
“I can’t,” said the man. “I’m sorry,” and it sounded like he meant it. The man got to his feet and waited patiently for Cosimo to do the same. Cosimo pushed himself up, his balance off and he hissed as he moved his hands to catch himself. All they touched was iron and it burned. The man put a hand under Cosimo’s armpits once he saw the boy struggling and helped him into a standing position.
“Thank you,” Cosimo said, the words like ash on his tongue. Thanking humans now? What would court think of him? His mind trailed back to the boy in the Elfbow, and guilt flood his body as he was pushed forward gently by the man.
“Change of plan, boys. We are bringing this one back to the King.”
One of the other men stood up, his face the shape of a weasel’s; small wisps of hair clung to his upper lip and chin in what Cosimo could only assume was supposed to be a beard and a moustache. The soldier lifted his nose high in the air when he looked up at Cosimo, grinning up at him and revealing yellowing teeth.
“It’s not even fully grown,” said the soldier with a high-pitched voice. The nice man holding Cosimo scoffed and pushed Cosimo forward again.
“Either are you, McClagen.” The soldier holding him said, earning laughs from the other soldiers.
“Does it know that we kill things like that?” McClagen sneered. The man didn’t reply, but Cosimo’s fate weighed heavy on him, heavier than a cloak made of stone.
It's okay though. if you want to keep going (and you know we want you to) just write about them developing after and how their fantasies evolve and stuff and kinky fun stuff they also develop once on the same page. GAH! it's so exciting I can't wait for more
I actually got distracted from writing the last chapter today and ended up with some random Fantasy smut instead haha. I'll definitely have to put up some side stories. :D
